Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 73

"Don't move," he whispered low.

"What's up?" Sylvia asked, puzzled.

"There's a streamer in your hair. Let me get it."

Warren's hand brushed through her hair, his fingers lingering as his gaze shifted. He leaned in slightly, catching the scent of her hair.

Sylvia's face blushed as she felt Warren close, blocking her head with her hands.

"I...I forgot to wash my hair. Does it smell weird?"

Warren chuckled, "No, it smells great."

"Warren, you're such a joker," Sylvia said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Let's go, my car is at the side entrance."

"Okay."

Sylvia walked alongside Warren, subconsciously twirling a strand of her hair. It's her subtle gesture, something she would do when she's feeling shy. Rupert watched the scene, his lips pressed thin, an ominous aura surrounding him. With a click, he lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, then slowly turned away. In the hallway, the event organizer was being gagged and forced to kneel by Orson.

"Mmm... Mr. Garcia! I was wrong! I really was!"

Rupert approached, exhaling a cloud of smoke, his voice cold, "Didn't I remind you before the game, fair play. You thought this would please me?" The man nodded fervently, hoping for Rupert's mercy.

Rupert glanced at his cigarette, then pressed the glowing tip into the man's forehead. The man's eyes rolled back in pain. Rupert stepped over him and walked away. Outside the studio, Bridget ran towards Rupert, her glamorous gown making her look like a princess rushing to her prince, drawing everyone's attention.

Among those watching was Sylvia. She seated in Warren's car, silently watching the fairy-tale moment unfold.

Warren laughed. "Who would've thought Uncle Rupert, of all people, could be so smitten with a woman."

"Yeah, surprising," Sylvia agreed, her gaze falling to her reddened fingers, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Bridget, arm in arm with Rupert, got into the car. She had expected some praise, but Rupert started browsing through files instead. Bridget's face fell, but she didn't dare to question him, tentatively offering him a trophy.

"Rupert, I guess I lived up to expectations," she said with a tender smile.

Rupert, without looking up, pushed the trophy aside. "It's blocking my files." Bridget went pale, unable to recover for a long time.

Then, she lifted her gaze, a sense of panic creeping into her eyes. Outside the car window, the reporter who had been making things difficult for Sylvia was being beaten by a group of seemingly ordinary passersby.

But from their skills, it was clear they were no ordinary people.

The reporter screamed, "I won't do it again! I'll never take money for such tasks again!" Bridget's heart trembled along.

All the while, Rupert didn't even

glance outside, as if everything,

happening was none of his com

With a swish, he turned a page in his file.

The sound of the paper, sharp like a blade, seemed to slice through Bridget's heart.

Fear finally took over her. Her hand trembled, and the trophy fell with a clang, shattering upon hitting something else.

Looking down, she saw her jewelry piece on the car floor, smashed just like Sylvia's broken sample. Bridget stared at the debris, dumbfounded.

Soon, the car stopped on the roadside. Rupert got out and, before closing the door, coldly said, "Clean up the trash before you leave."

....

In the restroom backstage.

Freya was pale, clutching her

stomach as she slowly stood up Her legs gave out, sending her crashing down, landing right in her own mess. She screamed in disgust and horror. en FindNovel